


remind me

by civillove



Series: plans wrapped in rubber bands [26]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 14:04:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21477586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: a job gone wrong gives Beth temporary amnesia--She nods, her blonde hair bouncing a little before a dignified snort leaves her mouth, “Well good, because now I’m able to say: what the fuck?” Beth blinks, her eyebrows drawing together. “How many times do we have to talk about doing drops in shady fucking parts of town? What, do criminals have some sort of code that they can’t do deals in suburbia?”--fits into 'plans wrapped in rubber bands' universe
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Series: plans wrapped in rubber bands [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1347943
Comments: 17
Kudos: 209





	remind me

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this idea in the shower and it wouldn't let me go so idk have this? Sometimes you can't argue with where inspiration takes you.  
this can be seen as a companion fic to my brio series: plans wrapped in rubber bands, though it's not necessary to have read it to enjoy :)

series link is [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1347943) in case you want to explore ;)

\--

The bright light is what wakes her up.

It’s _piercing, _registering in the back of her skull and sending painful sensations all down her body.

Someone, a woman, speaks quickly while moving and the lights dim. It’s then she feels like she’s able to open her eyes—slowly and with what feels like great difficulty.

“Hey, there you are.”

Beth blinks, groaning a little as she touches the back of her head, sitting up just slightly even though the position isn’t favorable.

“Easy,” The blonde woman comes into view, a fond smile on her face, still a little fuzzy around her edges. Bright red lipstick. “You alright?”

Her mouth opens and it takes her a few moments to reply, cotton tongue, but when she swallows she’s able to say, “Yes.”

She nods, her blonde hair bouncing a little before a dignified _snort _leaves her mouth, “Well _good, _because now I’m able to say: what the fuck?” Beth blinks, her eyebrows drawing together. “How many times do we have to talk about doing drops in shady fucking parts of town? What, do criminals have some sort of code that they can’t do deals in suburbia?”

Her eyes widen just slightly at the tangent, trying to open her mouth to speak but no words form. Even if she knew what she wanted to say, the blonde won’t let her get a word in.

“Don’t even get me started on Gang Friend,” She puts her hand up, “Yeah, he reverts back to that nickname when he can’t keep his shit together and go with you on dangerous jobs. I’m all for female empowerment and shit but I’ve seen you handle a gun, it’s not fucking pretty, alright?”

Beth shakes her head, licking her lips, “Can you—”

“Dean would have shown up by the way, if he hadn’t called me,” She rolls her eyes so hard that she swears they’re about to fall out of the blonde’s head. “Why’d you keep that dumbfuck as your emergency contact? Seriously. What’s _he _going to do for you other than make things worse.” That time it’s not a question.

It appears she’s finished with her tirade, a few moments of silence following and Beth feels brave enough to finally ask her for a glass of water.

The blonde sighs, clearly pissed at the whole situation even though Beth isn’t sure what to tell her…she’s not sure what happened. She’s not sure _who this is. _What if she’s some sort of loon that escaped from another floor and just so happened to make her way into her hospital room?

She’s about to discreetly hit the button for the nurse but a knock on her door stops her, a doctor slipping inside with a soft smile and clipboard. “Ah, Mrs. Boland, you’re awake. How’s your head?”

“She’s a ‘Ms’.” The blonde helpfully supplies but the doctor merely ignores her, coming closer to her bedside. Okay, so she’s not a threat but has obviously annoyed the doctor before this moment.

“My head is killing me,” She says honestly, feeling better after a few sips of water.

He hums and, “Lean up,” before he starts prodding around the back of her skull. She winces, squeezing her eyes shut and letting out a slow breath when he finally stops. “Any dizziness? Blurry vision? Memory loss?”

She blinks, taking a moment to run through his list. “Blurry on the edges and…and I don’t know who this woman is. Does that…does that count?”

The blonde’s mouth nearly opens far enough that her jaw crashes onto the floor. “Shit, for _real?” _

The doctor sighs, writing a few notes down on the clipboard. “Well, I’m sorry to say this is your sister, Annie. Can’t do much about that,” _Annie _makes a face that almost feels familiar, almost scratching the back of Beth’s mind. Her sister? “But I can say that your memory will come back.”

“How long?” Annie asks before she can, leaning back against the scratchy hospital pillow.

“It’s hard to say but that’s very common with concussions. You may experience some headaches,” The doctor puts his clipboard under his arm, tipping Beth’s chin back to look into her eyes with a pen light. “but if you have one that doesn’t go away or you vomit, you need to come back in. Alright?”

Beth nods and gives him a verbal confirmation, the doctor slipping out the door to get her discharge papers in order. Annie lets out a slow breath, clapping her hands together in front of her and avoiding her gaze. She isn’t sure what to say, which is fine because Beth doesn’t exactly have words for this situation either.

Annie was talking to her the moment she woke up like they were close and maybe they are. It’s comforting, more than she thought it would be, because at least she feels like she can trust her. There’s a lot of anxiety building in her chest at the thought about her memory, how long it’s going to take to return.

_What if it doesn’t? _She squashes that. _Stop that; the doctor made it seem like this was all very common. It’s not a big deal. It’ll be fine. It’ll come back, slowly but surely. _

“Bright side?” Annie says after a moment, breaking the silence as she grabs a bag of her belongings out from underneath the bed. “Least you forgot all about _why_ Dean’s a dumbfuck in the first place.”

She smiles and Beth feels the corner of her lip twitch up as she takes the bag of clothes from her.

\--

Turns out Beth doesn’t need to ask many questions because Annie fills in gapes the moment they leave the parking garage. It’s mostly about her home life, a little bit about their parents and a lot about Dean—her ex, a cheater, a manipulator and father to her children. She lets out a slow breath, glancing out the window as houses pass by in a greyish blur; she doesn’t know much about the current life she’s living but she knows that she already feels cramped in this car. Dying for an escape, like she can’t breathe, the frame of metal closing around her ribcage.

At least she’s managed to put her foot down it seems? when it comes to custody, living in her own house, forcing Dean to get an apartment on his own, and heading up her business at the dealership. All of that doesn’t sound too bad even though she wants to ask _cars? Really? _and apparently, she’s a head PTA mom and can bake one hell of a pumpkin roll.

“Dean and I can take care of the kids until you’re back on your feet. They’re a lot to handle sometimes; sound like the stampede off to run over Mufasa in the morning when they come down for breakfast,” Annie makes a right turn onto a suburban street, cookie-cutter yards passing her with several Christmas decorations already set up in November.

She knows the date, her name, who’s president (even though she sort of wishes she didn’t) and all the little tidbits of her life from what Annie’s told her. But she’s having trouble grasping at the details, all in the back of her mind swimming around, slipping like vapor through her fingers every time she tries to grab for them.

It’s frustrating even though she knows she has to be patient.

“I’m sure Rio can handle the business.”

Beth turns in her seat a little look at her, eyebrows crinkling together, “Rio?” The name feels at home on her tongue but she doesn’t know why.

Annie smacks her lips together to make a popping noise as she pulls the car into a driveway, obviously trying to gather her thoughts. Beth doesn’t understand why the question is so hard to answer.

“Yeah, Rio… he’s your uh,” She squints her eyes before waving her hand vaguely. “Business partner?”

“Is that supposed to be a question?”

“No, no,” Annie amends. “He’s your business partner.”

“For the dealership…” Beth trails off, trying to connect the dots even though she feels like something is scratching beneath the surface. Something Annie isn’t telling her.

“Dealership, right.” Annie smiles, too much teeth. “Uh, he’s also your boyfriend. A pain in the ass snack, but hey, what do I know about men, ya know?” She quickly backtracks, “I mean, you know what I mean. You _would _know if you remembered but uh…”

This is spinning out of control and a headache begins to brew in the back of her skull as she tries to force memories into the forefront of her brain—which isn’t working. There’s something in the way Annie is speaking with her, a hidden meaning underlying her words…she’s not being honest, she’s keeping something from her. Is it about Rio? Her business? Or something else entirely?

Regardless, she’s not sure if she wants to stay in the car any longer.

“Well, thanks for the ride home.”

“Yeah course,” She watches Beth open up the door and grab her purse. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Beth opens her purse and searches for keys. “Have to figure it out somehow.”

Annie’s quiet for a moment, leaning back into her seat as she shifts gears into drive. “Leave notes for yourself, ya know? Like that guy does in that movie? I feel like tattoos are a bit extreme but, do what you gotta do.” She looks to the ceiling, trying to remember, “_Memento, _that’s it.”

Beth lowers her purse, fixing her sister with a glare. “That’s _short-term_ memory loss, Annie. And it’s not like I forgot how to work a stove or something, I’ll be fine. Call me tomorrow.” She turns on her heel to head up to her front door.

Her sister yells out the window as she pulls out of her driveway, “You know, you’ll probably be good as new soon. Starting to sound like your old self already!”

\--

Beth stands in the foyer of her home for a long time just…staring, waiting for something to look familiar. She feels like she’s in a place that’s not hers, a catalogue house, half expecting to see prices on tables, chairs and picture frames as she forces herself to move. She sets her purse down by the door and takes her coat off, fingers trailing over pictures of her and her kids, her and Annie and another woman with a big personality shining through her eyes and boysenberry lipstick smile.

She traces her face for a moment but…doesn’t know her.

Something has to click eventually right? Maybe she needs a good night sleep, to restart her brain like a computer to get things properly flowing again. It’ll be okay, she repeats this over and over again like a mantra, because the more she says it—the more likely she is to believe it.

Though she knows that also has its own backfires…repeating something can make it lose meaning just as fast.

Her phone buzzes with messages as she makes her way upstairs, luckily only needing her fingerprint and not a passcode to see messages from her sister—pictures of Dean, the woman from the photo downstairs _Ruby, _her kids, her parents, her dealership, but a thought crosses her mind because…none of these are Rio.

What does Rio look like?

She doesn’t ask, instead she puts her phone down on her nightstand and searches her drawers and closet for comfy clothes to wear. Beth decides on a pair of black leggings with pockets (always a must) and a navy t-shirt with some distressed holes in the sleeves. Feeling more comfortable and relaxed, she walks into her bathroom to grab a brush and sink the bristles through her strands a few times. The action is calming even though she has to avoid a huge bump over the back of her head—she really wishes she knew what happened.

When she focuses, she _thinks _she recalls some sort of…car? With headlights on bright, pavement, a winter coat and a black duffle bag.

“Ouch.” She mumbles, dropping the brush to put her hand over her face. She pinches her eyes, leaning forward a little until the pounding stops between her ears. When it feels safe enough to do so, she pulls her hand away and stares at herself in the mirror.

Her eyes are a little bloodshot but other than that she looks…alright? Tired bruise-like blotches under her eyes, hair a little frizzy but overall not too bad. She picks up lotion and works some into her face, giving the skin of her cheeks an attractive pink kiss. She doesn’t recognize herself, not really, but instead remembers odd things like: her birthday, how to make a chicken broccoli casserole with limited ingredients and how to calculate something for her dealership—the price of time and model? for a car.

Beth shakes her head and leaves her bathroom, turning the light off.

She wants to sleep, knows that it’ll probably be the best thing for her but she’s wide awake. Instead she makes her way downstairs and into her kitchen, a place that feels the most at home from muscle memory alone. She trails her fingers over fridge magnets and post-it grocery notes and art from her kids…and a name she doesn’t recognize; Marcus? There’s a lot of dinosaur drawings from him.

She plays with the corner of one before her hand instinctively reaches for a cabinet, pulling it open.

Bourbon and coffee mugs.

“Huh.” She licks her lips; doesn’t seem like much of a coincidence.

As much as a drink sounds good right now, she’s not sure if she’ll need to take Advil later for headaches, so she opts for a coffee mug and makes herself a cup. She puts in cream and a little too much sugar but the sweetness sings on her tongue and the heat around her hands feels like a weighted blanket being pressed around her body. It actually feels like she might relax despite the situation at hand.

And then someone knocks on her back door.

Beth lets out a slow breath, unsure if she heard right for a moment but then it happens again—three gentle taps on the glass. She puts her mug down and wanders over to the door, pulling the curtain aside and—

A man is standing there with a beanie on, looking at her expectedly. She stares at him to which he blinks, stares right back and raises an eyebrow.

“You gonna let me in, or?”

She really shouldn’t, she has _no _idea who this guy is and yet…and yet something pulls on her wrist like a string, unlocking the door so he can push it open and work his way inside. He’s dressed head to toe in black; black jeans and a black jean-jacket despite being too cold outside. She bites her tongue on saying something about how he should probably be wearing a warmer coat but he undoes the first few buttons on his jacket to reveal a cream-colored sweater, so, she swallows her words.

Besides, that’s not what really has her attention—it’s his neck tattoo of a bird midflight, delicate lines across his throat nearly pulling her in like the bird of prey that’s depicted. He’s all hard lines and scruff decorating the beginning of his neck and jawline. He adjusts his posture but that doesn’t help the metal bar that seems to be across his shoulders.

“Thought we were past this shit.” His voice reaches deep inside her chest, unlocking _something _even though she isn’t sure what it is. “Me having to come look for you when you don’t show up at a meet.” His features are soft, despite the fact that he’s annoyed.

A meet… Beth frowns softly; a meet? Annie said that Rio was her business partner so this _has _to be him, right?

“And don’t even try to give me somethin’ about an emergency bake sale; I feel like after all this time you know where your priorities sit.”

She bites down on her tongue because okay, regardless if this is her business partner or boyfriend or _whatever, _he can’t talk to her like that. So she missed a meet (whatever that means); doesn’t he even want to know why? What happened? She’s getting the impression that she rarely lets things like this slide…but just because he shows up looking like _that _doesn’t mean he gets to walk all over her.

She opens her mouth to reply, fixing him with what she hopes is a glare and he puts his hand up,

“Nah, don’t look at me like that. We both know you’d be all over my ass if I would’ve been late. ‘Partners means showin’ up’.”

_Partners, _so she was right. He’s expecting a response now, she can see it in the way his eyes settle on her, a tension clear on his face that she somehow recognizes even though she doesn’t remember him.

“Look,” She says after a moment, finally finding her voice. “I don’t completely understand what you’re—” A sharp pain washes over her temple again like a tidal wave, forcing her to close her eyes a moment. She pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to wait for it to pass and she can sense Rio’s body moving closer even though she can’t see him.

He touches her, fingers around her shoulder, cupping the back of her arm to draw her closer and he’s not hesitant about it. They’ve done this dance before, they know one another, the heat of his skin kissing her own telling her all the intimate secrets without her having to ask. He’s like a book she’s read a long time ago—lines fuzzy but theme clear and memorable.

“What happened?”

His voice and body are too close, too much sensory overload, not enough recollection to connect the dots for her. This instinct has her flinching, taking a step back from him, pulling her hand away from her face and wincing against the artificial light of her kitchen ceiling. Despite not knowing what’s going on, Rio doesn’t look put out or offended. In fact, he smirks when she attempts to put space between them because the hesitance on her part is somehow familiar and…entertaining.

He takes his beanie off and scrubs his fingers through his short-cropped hair, even more handsome with the hat off. How is she supposed to concentrate on what’s happened, what’s going on, what she doesn’t remember and what she does all at once when he’s giving her his full attention like _that?_

His eyes are trained on her, watching her attentively, gaze drinking her in and following the curves of her body like he’s done a million times before. It feels more recognizable than anything thus far.

“I think I got hit.” She says after a moment.

There’s a shadow that passes over his face, some muscles beginning to work in his jaw. “Last night?” He pauses. “Kaden?”

She blinks. “Who?”

Rio licks his lips, chewing on a thought a moment. “Elizabeth, you know who I am?”

Beth bites down on the inside of her cheek, wishing she felt more confident as the word tumbles out of her mouth, “Rio?”

He hums, running his hand over the lower half of his face. “Yeah, even though you don’t sound too sure.” Rio passes her to reach for the same cabinet, pulling out another mug and her bourbon before popping the top. He pours himself some and hovers over her coffee cup, pouring a fingerful into it.

He hands it to her, motioning for her to drink it. Beth glances down at the concoction and takes a slow sip, the alcohol almost strong enough to make her cough. It sings on her taste buds, familiar, warm and heated down throughout her chest.

Rio knows how she takes her coffee; this isn’t the first time they’ve done this.

“You know what I was doing last night?” He mentioned the name Kaden but it doesn’t ring a bell.

“I know what you were doin’ for a few things, yeah.” He holds her gaze very pointedly, making her cheeks flush. “You were with me at my place and then I had to pick up Marcus for the night.” _Marcus, _the dinosaurs. Her gut tells her it’s his kid and that they must be close enough for him to give her drawings for her fridge, “You handled a deal last night at your dealership.”

“With Kaden.”

Rio nods, taking a sip of his bourbon, “Where’d he hit you?”

She shrugs her one shoulder, “I don’t…I don’t know if it was him.”

“It was him.”

Rio seems like the type that shouldn’t be argued with, so she nods; it’s also in how he says things sometimes. So matter of fact, so determined. She has no idea who this Kaden guy is or what she was doing at this deal last night, but she trusts what Rio’s telling her because of how Rio’s holding himself and how he speaks.

“He has a temper and, knowing you, you probably refused to put up with somethin’ that came out of his mouth.” He takes another step towards her and pauses, waiting for her permission, only moving again when she nods.

His body slips along hers like a magnet, something sliding into place, she knows this despite not remembering anything else. Her body hasn’t forgotten him.

“Back of my head, towards the left,” Rio’s fingers move through her hair, gently, and when he reaches the spot she’s referring to Beth hisses between her teeth. “Ow, yeah. There.”

Rio bites down on his tongue, she can see the expression play out on his face; he’s angry but not at her, it’s _for _her. She doesn’t have to know him to understand that this probably won’t end well for this Kaden guy. Her eyes drink in his face, gaze tracing his cheekbones and the wings of his bird tattoo.

“You didn’t think to check on me? Last night with this…this job or whatever?”

He barks out a sudden laugh, taking another sip of his bourbon before setting the glass aside. “Right. First few times I did that, you bit my head off. You’re a grown ass woman who’s proven she can handle herself. I don’t gotta check in on you.”

“Apparently you do,” Beth grumbles, dipping her chin a little.

Rio’s quick to slip his hand out of her hair and catch the movement, tipping her head up, “Hey,” He waits until she’s looking at him, running his thumb over her jawline, “That shit ain’t on you.”

Beth swallows because the words somehow feel empty even though she instinctively knows they’re not. “How can you know that?”

“Because,” Rio smiles a little, letting his hand drop. “Partners, remember?”

He pulls back from her, picking up his mug to drink the rest of his bourbon before rinsing the ceramic out in the sink. She watches his movements, the long lines of his body and holds her breath on asking a very specific question. She remembers Annie calling someone ‘gang friend’ and that she was very purposely holding something back while answering questions about her job and relationship with Rio.

She thinks she knows even though she feels the question tumble out of her mouth, “What kind of work do we do together?”

Rio glances up at her as he finishes buttoning up his jean jacket, taking his beanie out of his pocket. He watches her for a moment, that same thought passing between his eyes and his mouth, tasting it, holding it on his tongue as he debates telling her something.

“Depends on what’s on our calendar, really, but…most of the time it’s washing fake cash and using your dealership to filter in drugs with beat to shit cars.”

He's not joking and he's holding her gaze like they've burdened this secret together _partners_, like he's waiting for her give a reaction that he has to deal with. And yet, while he's saying something utterly ridiculous and clearly against the law, _she’s a criminal? _there’s an unwavering wall of trust barreling towards him.

At least he’s being honest with her and that means more than anything.

Her knees are shaking, but she asks, “Whatever happened…I feel like I should fix it.”

“Nah,” He waves her off gently, “I’ll take care of it. Want you to stay here and get your head on straight.”

Beth holds his gaze for a moment, chewing on her lower lip as she picks up her rapidly cooling cup of coffee between her hands. “Do you often tell me what to do?” Something else that feels right, a teasing tone wrapping around her syllables.

It makes Rio smirk as he heads towards the backdoor, leaning against the frame for a moment. “Yeah, but you often don’t _listen _so,” He shrugs, throwing it right back to her. A quirk of a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth and he leans down to brush the softest of kisses on the bridge of her nose.

She squirms even though the sensation isn’t unpleasant. His lips are soft and cause an ache to appear between her legs; she knows this, she knows him. One moment longer and he’s out the door, leaving her with her thoughts that aren’t complete strangers.

\--

It takes a few days for her memories to come back; it’s slow and often accompanied by headaches but it’s worth it. She remembers the situation with Kaden; he’d said something nasty about not wanting to work with women and instead on letting that slide, she said something back about not wanting to work with men with small penises.

Clearly not her finest hour as she turned on her heel to leave, Kaden taking an enraged, cowardice moment to hit her from the back. She remembers hitting the pavement and her vision going white—all downhill from there.

Beth’s called Rio a few times to tell him what happened but he hasn’t picked up and she doesn’t leave a message. She knows he’ll make his way back over here when he’s ready to.

She remembers Dean trying to take advantage of her lack of memory by pretending their relationship was on better terms than it actually was because he _is _that kind of dick. Luckily by the time he tried that trick, she was on her way to recovery.

She told him exactly where he could stick that idea.

She sighs and turns a little in bed, pressing her face against her pillow, not determined to wake up for a few more hours. Dean’s got the kids anyways. She’s finally jumping back into the routine tomorrow; her headaches haven’t stopped even though they’ve calmed down in intensity.

Beth’s not alarmed when she hears the door open and close downstairs, knowing it can only be one person. She knew that he’d check back up on her eventually, soft patterned footsteps making their way into her bedroom and kicking off his shoes before he sits on the bed. His fingers wind through her hair, the combination of skin and cologne washing over her like a cool wave.

She sighs gently, his touch soothing to the pain wavering at her temples, threatening to either dissipate or erupt. Beth opens her eyes after a moment, gaze finding him in her bedroom; he’s wearing dark jeans and a navy t-shirt, hints of block tattoos peaking out from underneath the fabric. Wearing blue always makes the bird tattoo even more defined, like it’s about to fly off his neck.

“How you feelin’, ma?”

She knows she shouldn’t, but it’s just _too _easy to fuck with him. Beth turns her cheek into his touch, kissing his palm as he slips his hand down her face. “I’m good Dean, thanks.”

He pauses, a brief flash of confused disgust on his face that’s far too comedic for her to keep a straight face. A giggle slips out of her lips and he shakes his head, mouth falling open a moment before a laugh rumbles in his throat.

“Shit ain’t funny.”

“It’s a _little _funny,” She grins, a surprised gasp leaping out of her chest as he suddenly pounces, blanketing her with his body.

The entire bed dips, his arms creating a cage around her, one of his legs slipping between her own. Beth lets out a slow breath, their hips lining up, chest pressing into his own as their noses brush.

“Head still hurts,” She admits after a moment. “But it’s getting better.”

Rio hums, pressing a kiss to her forehead, his scruff tickling her cheeks. His hand weaves itself through her hair, fingers absently rubbing her temple as he pulls back to look down at her. “S’good.”

She chews on her lower lip, almost doesn’t want to bring it up, “I remember what happened with Kaden.”

“Got our money back, won’t be dealin’ with him anymore.” He shrugs after a moment, “He might not be dealin’ with _anyone _anymore, kinda hard to make deals without a tongue.”

Beth’s eyes widen, her hand squeezing his side. “Rio, you didn’t.”

He grins because now who’s fucking with who? “I didn’t,” He agrees, shaking his head as she lets out a breath of relief. “But I would, let’s just make that clear.”

She rolls her eyes, hand slipping up under his shirt to feel the warm skin of his back just because she can. “I know. But it’s not necessary.”

“Whatever you want,” He mumbles, curling her hair around her ear. He’s quiet a moment, “Memories all back in place?”

Beth nods softly and he leans forward to brush their lips together, a hardness between his legs prominent against her thigh. “Yeah,” Her heart skips in her chest, feeling a little breathless as she speaks. “All back.”

“You sure…you remember everything?” He teases, smile slow and all too handsome, licking his lips against her own before tugging on her lower lip with his teeth.

She very purposely rolls her hips up, shivering at the noise that leaves Rio’s throat.

“Why don’t you remind me?” She prompts him and he grins before pulling the covers over both their heads.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! stop by at blainesebastian.tumblr.com/ask to talk about brio or request stuff


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